Thanks everyone, for all the well wishes and [lack of] sympathy. . . and phone calls and emails and more phone calls and still more emails. Geez.
Yes, I’m still sick. Yes, I went to the doctor. She said I have a virus and should get some rest. She gave me medicine, including something called lidocaine — you gargle with it and it numbs your throat so you can swallow. Wonderful stuff. It’s one thing to lose weight because you’ve cut down on calories, it’s quite another to lose weight because you can’t even swallow your own spit, let alone nourishment.
No, mom, I do not have strep. Yes, they did a test. No, I do not have a fever anymore. I have it from an authoritative source that my tonsils are not red and swollen — which is a damn good thing since I vividly remember having them removed when I was six. For those keeping track (incredibly, some of you are), even after repeated attempts to cough up a lung my blood pressure is 120/80, which is not bad. Stop worrying.
But to tell the truth, I’m cranky as all hell. I hate being sick and this has gone on long enough. I’ve run out of chipper pleasantries to offer those who ask how I’m feeling, so here’s the truth:
My head hurts and my coughing muscles are sore. I wake up during the night, engage in crud removal (yes, I can be more descriptive, be careful what you ask for), and can’t get back to sleep. The bags under my eyes have baggage. I’ve gone through three boxes of Kleenex and my nose is raw. I try not to look in the mirror. I can’t rest because I have things to do. I have to concentrate to swallow. And the dog is back from Charlotte (I don’t know why, probably it’s a conspiracy) so I can’t even sleep late on the weekend because he can’t be trained to use the litter box for anything other than a snack tray.
Oh, you think THIS is bad-tempered, self-indulgent whining? This is nothing. You should read the other stuff I’ve written this week. I was going to delete it all but then decided to keep it as a cautionary reminder. Of what not to do when you’re sick.
But I have lost five pounds.
So it could be worse.